A Sense of Self
by Evilkeen
Summary: On March 11th, 1997, a boy by the name of Ranma Saotome was admitted to hospital with a crushed ribcage. He could have avoided the blow, but didn't. Something happened that afternoon in Nerima, and Ranma can't remember anything.
1. Prologue: The Void

### A Sense of Self

#### by [][1]Evilkeen

_Prologue: The Void_

Pain.

It was the first sensation he felt. Floating motionless in a void, arms and legs akimbo.

There was nothing now, nothing but an inky dark blackness and pain. Pain which was all-encompassing, from everywhere and nowhere, a feeling of constriction in his heart that sent sharp electrical sparks of agony through his nerve endings. It lasted for an instant eternity.

Then, Ranma tasted something: fuzzily, faintly

It was the taste of copper pennies and of institutional facilities. The smell of bodily fluids, sweat, fear, death coupled with disinfectant and talcum powder could be discerned.

Ranma floated through this oblivion and waited, too disoriented and confused for rational thought or even irrational panic.

Suddenly, the force of gravity just . . . happened. And at the same time the inky black void became denser then water, thicker, pressing at him from all sides, his lungs furiously, desperately, futilely trying to pump oxygen into his system as claustrophobia set in. He had to get out! He had to escape!

With this new sense of gravity, Ranma urgently manipulated his appendages until he was satisfied that he was oriented face up. His lungs now felt like they had small charcoal briquettes merrily blazing away inside. He urgently started swimming upwards, his well-developed muscles straining against hydraulic friction as he ascended towards--what he hoped was--the surface.

He was almost there, he could feel it, the ominous pressure was lessening dramatically, and he suddenly could hear again, words--faint but steadily growing--were being processed by his ears, hideously distorted by some sort of Doppler effect.

"...ssive trauma to the upper chest and abdomen. We've tubed him and've dealt with the internal bleeding as much as we can. The breathing machine should . . . Holy Shit! He's coming around, Anaesthetic!"

Ranma felt a dream within a dream's feeling of cold metal and pressure along his right arm. His ascent from the dark slowed and halted for an instant. Then suddenly the density of the dark liquid completely vanished into being an empty void again, and Ranma started to fall rapidly, he tried to shout, but no sound could be heard; Ranma screamed and screamed as he fell down the abyss in complete and utter silence. 

   [1]: mailto:evilkeen@hotmail.com



	2. Hospital

### A Sense of Self

#### by [Evilkeen][1]

_Hospital_

Upon reflection, Ranma pondered, he really didn't remember regaining consciousness. Just in the same way he didn't remember being born, his memories just faded away the further back he recalled them. His earliest moment in the hospital that he could recall was to answer a question a nurse said rhetorically to herself while maintaining the jungle of tubes and wires that had sprouted around his bed. When she heard his voice suddenly croak at her out of the blue she jumped in surprise and called in a doctor. Then his memory got frustratingly hazy again and he didn't recall anything until after the surgery. 

The surgery that had to put him out for around eleven hours as doctors reset his right ribcage bones using a combination of surgical wiring and replacement ceramics, all the while picking out some forty-odd bone fragments that were scattered around his upper chest. Some shards dangerously close to his heart. Ranma had gone through the entire process with a decidedly necessary sense of black humour.

During that whole ideal, Ranma simply abided it all. He was just too tired to be angry or upset or caustic to anybody. Whenever the Tendo clan visited Ranma, he had not once used the quality of the hospital food as part of an insult to Akane's cooking. At this juncture, he could simply care less.

Not that his newly-gained politeness mollified Akane at all, if anything else she was even more furious at him for some inexplicable reason, she yelled at him for insignificant events from the past, getting louder and louder as the visit went; Ranma endured her tirade patiently and without retaliation. Not talking back to Akane had the same effect on her temper that not hitting her in a sparring match would've. And her tirades would get so intense that she hit him with a glancing blow. Ranma yelped in pain from his still-sensitive chest and discreetly pushed the emergency buzzer under his pillow. He didn't have to take this crap right now. The on-duty nurse ran in on the spectacle of the youngest Tendo shaking Ranma by the collar violently, an IV needle had been violently ripped out, leaving his arm bloodied.

And because Akane was finally and discreetly told to leave the building by the hospital staff who couldn't take her consistent abuse of their patient. The unspoken duty of visiting him daily had to be taken up by somebody else in the Tendo Dojo.

Soun--who avoided hospitals as a rule because of the memories of his wife that they brought--was discounted immediately. Besides, he didn't really know Ranma well enough to talk to him alone for more then a few minutes without repeating himself.

Genma had mysteriously started working double-shifts at Tofu-sensei's clinic and, although he tried to visit as much as he could, he couldn't manage it on a daily basis.

Kasumi couldn't stay long enough without interfering with the harmonious operation of the household.

So that left Nabiki, who rolled her eyes and grumbled mostly for show, but eventually accepted the burden.

That next day, Nabiki was let out of school, talked briefly with her teachers, and left for the Hospital on foot. She carried her school bag over one shoulder and over the other, the strap of a large carrying case which was resting against her hip like a purse.

And at about the point where Nabiki was wondering if she was on the wrong street, the short, wide, earthquake-resistant hospital building was abruptly revealed to her around a corner. Unbidden, her mind flashed a rapid sequence of images: Her mother coming in for weekly visits, growing sickly, clumps of her hair in the furo's drain, and then finally the bedridden spindly, ghostly form.

__

AOk, you can stop with the angst now girl@ she chastised herself internally.

Walking through a gauntlet of smoking patients, who all had sour expressions on their faceBno doubt because of fact that they had to smoke in this brisk weatherBNabiki pushed open a door and stood in the entrance, letting the fierce air pressure blow warm air over her chilled body. And standing there in the lobby of the Kojima-Sakaguchi Trauma ward, she never felt so lost in her life.

Not that she'd admit that to anyone who could've shown her the way.

***

A while later, Nabiki was finally (she hoped) nearing her destination. _ARemind me never to tease Ryoga again,@_she grumbled to herself, then suddenly stopped, berating herself for her mental _faux pas_. At that moment her eyes fell on a chart next to a door.

SAOTOME, RANMA (16)' it read.

__

AHmm, twenty minutes late,@ she mused, _AI really should have visited him with Daddy and Genma beforehand and got my bearings.@_

It was at that point she started to hear a rhythmic thumping sound emanating from in the room. She was about to peer inside to see what Ranma was up to, when suddenly the noise was replaced by the sounds of something dribbling across the floor accompanied by a muffled curse, and a bright green tennis ball rolled out of the room, rolling down the hall, hitting a wall now and then, before coming to rest against a couch in the ward lounge area.

Nabiki stared at the tennis ball, the tennis ball stared back, looking forlorn with its lime-green clashing with the dark mahogany of the couch's upholstery. Her eyebrow rose. Walking over and retrieving it, she examined it, turning it over and over in her hands.

PROPERTY OF PHYSICAL-TRAINING DEPT.' was written with a black magic marker in neat Japanese and English writing.

Almost impulsively, Nabiki tossed it in the air, observing it as it sailed upwards, nearly hitting the ceiling before halting its ascent and started coming down. Nabiki deftly caught it in both hands.

She hrumphed' and wheeled around, making her way back toward Ranma's hospital room, absently tossing the tennis ball in her right hand as she walked.

***

When Ranma accidentally fumbled that ball, all he could to was lie in a sitting up position and track the thing helplessly as it rolled out of the room and down the hallway. Of all the rotten luck.

Deprived of his only source of entertainment, he sighed and lay back on the bed, his thoughts running through his head at a snail's pace.

__

The ball's gone.

I don't think it's coming back

Damn

Maybe I should buzz the nurse . . . 

And then his eyes caught a brief flash of a light-blue and white school uniform outside his door.

__

I think Akane's outside my room.

He pondered that one for a while, then simply summed up his feelings in two words.

__

Aww. . .shit.

***

When Nabiki finally walked into Ranma's room, she noticed that his expression was first of surprise. ThenBshe was gratified to noteBsome delight, then suspicion rolled over his pale features.

AHey Nabiki,@ he said through suddenly-dry lips, Aya want something from me?@

Nabiki assumed a not-entirely-false expression of hurt. AListen Ranma, the fact is this: My spaz of a sister, has proven that she cannot be trusted to visit you here, and since _some_body has to visit you every day I'm here because no-one else seems to be able to do it. Now I've made arrangements so this won't affect my after school activities too much, but if you make another _single_ ungrateful remark, an ill-timed comment, or one careless phrase, and I will make sure that my visit is your living hell. Are We Clear?@

Ranma, throat suddenly dry and fully aware of his lack of mobility, nodded yes urgently.

AGood,@ affirmed Nabiki. She sat down, feeling somewhat depressed, opened up the large shoulder bag she was carrying and took out an old laptop which she promptly turned on and started a finance program.

There was dead silence, save for the clicking of keys and the whirr of a ventilation duct nearby. Ten minutes passed.

Finally Ranma said something that he'd never said before in his life.

ANabiki, I'm sorry@

   [1]: mailto:evilkeen@hotmail.com



	3. A Cage To Keep Him In

### A Sense of Self

#### by [Evilkeen][1]

_A Cage To Keep Him In_

A black-haired sixteen-year-old sat waiting for the transfer truck, the orange coloured prison garb hung ill-fitting on his young form as he sat running his tongue nervously over his lips.

"Oh Ranma, why in hell didn't you move?" he questioned morosely. 

The prisoner transport bus arrived and he waddled in his leg irons aboard, choosing a spot well away from any others. His head felt exposed and his back was too light, he sorely missed his bandanna, backpack and umbrel-.

He shuddered. No, no he definitely did NOT miss his umbrella.

Unwittingly his mind flashed to an image form his point of view, being dragged into the police car, seeing both an ambulance speeding away and his umbrella, broken and forlornly lying in that ominous scarlet pool of...

He shuddered again and looked out the window, tuning out the world, until he was rudely thwapped on the head with a black night-stick. He turned around,

"Hey! Are you fucking retarded? you piece of shit. I asked you what's your NAME asswipe!" 

The prisoner could feel everything, the smarting lump on his head from the club, the rumble of the poorly tuned bus engine, the smell of sour tobacco and onions on the angry guard's breath.

"Ummm, Ryoga Hibiki" he muttered, cowed. 

   [1]: mailto:evilkeen@hotmail.com



	4. Furinken

### A Sense of Self

#### by [Evilkeen][1]

_Furinken_

Furinken High School had been unusually quiet, and Daisuke hated it. He hated it because it reminded him constantly on the cause of this newfound lack of enthusiasm in the student body, namely Ranma. Ranma wasn't exactly a friend, or at least, not as much a friend as Hiroshi, but he _was_ a fixture in their lives. Being there, talking at lunch, artfully teasing Ranma about his curse. 

Out of the blue, he was tapped on the shoulder from behind, he turned in surprise and saw Hiroshi standing behind him with a desperate look on his face. "Um, Akane's heading this way," his friend warned, "I suggest hasty retreat." 

Daisuke nodded in rapid agreement as they both made a beeline to the nearest Male Washroom door, they both rushed inside and leaned against the door. At first, nothing could be heard, but then a slight thumping was audible, and slowly growing louder. A growl of "Perverts" could be heard, as well as the sickening bone-crunching sound of Akane taking out her anger on a hapless male hallway pedestrian. Plaster could be heard breaking outside. Then, with a roar of "I hate BOYS, I swear I'm gonna kill the next one I see" footsteps moved away and faded to nothingness. 

Hiroshi and Daisuke were still leaning against the door with very wide eyed stares, neither one spoke for a long time. 

Finally, Hiroshi cleared his throat. "Well, she certainly sounded serious." 

"That she did, Hiroshi." 

"So . . . " 

"What?" 

"Don't you think it's time to leave this washroom, Daisuke?" 

"Nuh-uh, you heard what she did. Why don't _you_ leave first?" 

"Nuh-uh, I like living." 

"Well then . . . " 

"Yes" 

"Missing a few periods of classes isn't too serious, Hiroshi." 

"That it isn't." 

*** 

Half an hour later, the two gingerly peeked out the door and declared the hallway safe, as they exited, Daisuke noted the poor freshman, head planted deep in the wall, legs kicking futilely. Otherwise the hallways were completely empty, long straight corridors with flourescent lights in the ceilings that buzzed and flickered constantly. Hiroshi could smell something cooking in the nearby Home Ec. room, and there was a low murmur of voices from the direction of the Classical Japanese class. 

Daisuke rubbed his chin, "Well we're well underway on missing the last period of the day, wanna go home early and play a video game?" 

Hiroshi was about to apply in the affirmative when he heard something: A faint whimper, eery and inhuman could be heard from down the hall toward the administration wing. The hair on the back of his neck stood absolutely stiff, there was an innate sense of _wrong_ in the air, and Hiroshi didn't like it one bit. He raised an arm to motion Daisuke to silence. He listened again, it was faint, but he could hear that whimper again. Yes, definitely from the office area. 

"What the fuck _is_ that!" hissed Daisuke, shuddering at the inhuman noise that reached his ears 

"Take off your shoes and follow me," Hiroshi whispered under his breath. 

The boys quickly undid their shoes, carrying them in their hands as their sock feet padded across the polished floor. The door to the outer office was open, and the two boys peaked inside. Nothing but thick Hawaiian-style foliage greeted their eyes--a product of Principal Kuno's interior redecoration. They snuck inside the outer office which was completely devoid of office staff (as usual, staff acquired a taste for leaving early under the Principal's administration.) The office looked completely normal. 

Except the principal's office, the always open door was shut tight, and the window blinds were lowered over the interior windows. Hiroshi crawled silently to the door frame; Daisuke followed behind, inside they could hear heavy breathing, as if someone had just run a marathon, then, a sob? 

"Come on now, tell us where Arakawa is," threatened a deep voice from inside the office, "you _do_ want to keep your fingers right?" 

"All right," gasped out another voice, it was principal Kuno, lacking his foreign accent and colloquialisms "He's in goddamn Todai State! Ok? For a B&E, you bastards. Why can't you leave him alone?" 

"Because he interfered with us," stated a higher pitched but still-menacing voice, "let that be a lesson. Don't fuck with us Godai, you only get one chance. Just be glad that Saotome brat can't remember shit or your daughter wouldn't have a face anymore." 

"We'll be seeing you Godai Kuno," chimed in the deep voice, "It was nice seeing you again, catching up on old times." 

Suddenly footsteps could be heard in the room approaching the door. Hiroshi and Daisuke both dove under a nearby desk. Peering out underneath the small gap at the floor, Daisuke saw the door open and two pairs of feet strode out toward the door. 

"What about Tendo?" deep-voice asked on the way out. 

"Hopefully it won't come to that," malicious-voice replied, "but if it does then we'll . . . " 

The outer office door slammed shut, cutting off the rest of the sentence. 

The principal's office door slowly opened again, and a new pair of feet slowly limped out toward the main desk phone. The sounds of dialing could be heard and then: 

Principal Kuno's voice: "Oh hello Sasuke, could you bring the car to school please to pick me up? And bring bandages." A small pause, "no that's none of your concern, just bring the car out front in fifteen. I'm taking a week off, make the relevant arrangements. Oh, and Sasuke? Keep a close eye on my kids ok?" the phone was hung up. 

Daisuke had noticed throughout the exchange with growing horror, the red stain that was rapidly soaking through the Principal's left white loafer, which was now being dragged back into the office. With a sound of finality door shut behind it. 

The boys waited a few seconds, then bolted upright and ran out of the office, down the hall, and out the main entrance. But only an unseasonably cold wind greeted both of them. Of the men, they could find no trace. 

   [1]: mailto:evilkeen@hotmail.com



End file.
